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Who knows how I thought this one up, but it's not bad.

William Tarence had been drafted for the United States Army by the Selective Service Act just a few months before the attack on Pearl Harbor. This rugged individual with dishwater blonde hair, cerulean blue eyes, and a firm body figure had been stationed to an Army camp off the coast of Washington for extensive combat training. When news of the attack reached Washington, the Army gathered up its troops to be deployed to Europe for a hopeful and swift victory against the Axis powers.

Tonight was William’s final night before leaving for Europe the next day. Several of the men leaving for tomorrow gathered their ladies and headed to the local saloon. As the soldiers made their way inside, a jazz ensemble’s distinct, blue notes could be heard. William firmly grabbed Julia’s hand, and took her to the dance floor. Julia was William’s childhood friend; they had grown up together, and as a result, had always been close. They let the music take them off their feet, and for the time being, the war was nonexistent.

“Julia, dancing with you is like walking on water,” said William, while gracefully spinning her by the arm. Julia laughed heartily throwing her head back in delight. On the night went, like a vivid flame, their motions were ceaseless from the first chord to the final note’s swing. As it was midnight, William walked Julia home, as it was only a few streets away from the saloon. They stopped in front of the door, and he reached inside his coat pocket fumbling for a small ring. Come on, just ask her already! Just thinking about asking the gorgeous Julia to marry him, made him red. Julia smiled and asked him if something was wrong. He shook his head and came back to his senses and attempted a weak smile. “Nothing, I’ll see you soon. Don’t you worry about me,” William said cheerfully. Julia almost allowed a frown to slip past her face, but quickly replied, “Yes, you come back home soon!” With that, William withdrew his hand from his pocket, gave Julia a kiss on the cheek, and headed back to camp.

The fighting was intense, but it was Julia which kept William to keep fighting strongly. Whenever time allowed, he always had her mind, and in which he would write her a letter to assure her he was fine. While he was stationed in Europe, he became very homesick. He suffered alone, wishing he was somewhere else; desperate, and with a need for someone to talk to besides themselves about trivial things and not related to the war. No mellifluous swing notes, just a cold and dirty world, with a constant discomfort and an ever longing wish to be closer to home. And more than anything, he had regretted more than ever, the chance for Julia’s hand. He promised himself he would make it safety back to America and then, he would heroically ask her hand in marriage which was the true battle at hand.

He woke up, and his higher ups called their squad out of bed promptly and out onto the field. He grabbed his weapon, and joined the rest of his comrades on the battlefront. The battle had commenced, grenades flinging left and right, and a bullet had whizzed just past William’s shoulder, giving him a very unpleasant innuendo. He turned around, spotting the enemy, whom was quickly shot down by his comrade. His comrade smiled, giving him a thumbs up. William quickly followed after his comrade, and fought by his side as time passed by. William noticed out of the corner of his eye that the enemy was targeting his comrade. Only instinct came to his mind and William found himself running in front of his comrade to take the bullet. He immediately fell limp, weak and powerless. He reached inside his pocket with what little strength he had and clung tightly to the ring. The greatest gift ever known to him was Julia’s smiling face, and with that he closed his eyes and took comfort as death numbed every pain he had ever known.

© Blair Greenwood, Literary Magazine of the FMHS 2007